September 18

"Callie's face is so beautiful I think she must have been sculpted by those artists I learned about in art class last week," she read aloud, a smile pulling at her lips as Arizona quickly moved her head up from here she was unpacking a different box to look at her, eyes wide.

The blush that was rapidly spreading over her cheeks was freaking adorable – she loved that Arizona blushed – "Calliope, where did you find that?"

She gestured at the open box next to her, "It was right on the top of the pile." In fact, there were eight of Arizona's old diaries in the box, all tied together with string and a little bow tying them together, with a note from Tim that said, enjoy!

And enjoy, she was, as she continued to read, "Her smile is so white, it's blinding, and when she shows it – really shows it, not like the fake ones she gives her "friends" – I think that's the only time I've ever seen true beauty." She paused to look back up at Arizona. Those ocean blue eyes were now squeezed tightly closed, even though she didn't really understand why, "Arizona, stop. This is the most beautiful thing someone's written about me. Even if it was written about me ten years ago."

Those eyes flipped open and a small smile played on her lips, dimples popping, "Really? I always did think I had a way with words…"

"Yes, you're practically Shakespeare. Now, let me read," she dipped her head again, eyes scanning over the next words, clearing her throat, "I had another dream last night, that started with her smiling at me in the hallway –"

The book was snatched away from her as Arizona lunged out, that lithe body falling on top of hers as the blonde tried to throw the book out of her grasp. As she fell back on the hardwood floor, her shoulder digging into the leg of the table, she couldn't stop laughing, "Another dream? Arizona, I want to read about what you dreamt about me! Give me the diary back!"

She slid a thigh in between the blonde's, then bucked her hips up, her hands gliding up her girlfriend's arms that were fully bared to her because of the form-fitting blue tank top she had on so that she could reach Arizona's diary holding hands stretched above their heads.

Arizona gasped in surprise as she felt Callie's leg press against her, and she sent the diary sliding across the floor under the chair with a flick of her wrist before maneuvering to interlock both of their hands and shaking her hips down against her Latina's. Callie's answering gasp made her grin, and she slid her leg so that she was straddling curvy hips, "Who cares about the diary when I can just show you what I used to dream about?"

Her embarrassment at Callie even reading such a small portion of her teenage self's innermost thoughts about her was facing away, replaced with arousal sliding low into her stomach. Lowering her head, she nipped her teeth into Callie's neck, swiping her tongue over the spot and feeling her heartbeat speed up under her mouth.

That embarrassment was completely forgotten about when her girlfriend's hands flexed under hers, and then she found herself pressed under that long, supple body as Callie rolled them over. Her heart skipped a beat when full lips pressed right underneath her earlobe, right on the spot that could make her wet in a heartbeat, "Or… I could read the diary."

And while she was still waiting for her girlfriend's lips to trail down along her jaw as they usually did, she instead was missing the more than welcome weight on top of her. Scrambling to sit up, it was too late, and Callie had already slid the journal out from under the chair with her fingertips and flipped it back open.

Crossing her arms, she shrugged, "You know what? Fine. Go right ahead and read it. I'm not ashamed."

And she really wasn't. Ashamed, that is. But she couldn't deny that she was supremely embarrassed, again, those feelings rushing back and swirling in her stomach, making her cheeks flood red.

Feeling triumphant, Callie winked and made sure to exaggeratedly clear her throat, "As I was saying – or, you were saying, I guess – that dream… right, here it is. It started with her smiling at me in the hallway. I smiled back and she winked one of those dark eyes. It happened so fast, but then there was no one else around and it was just me and Callie. She was kissing me and pressing me against the wall, and then I…" her eyes widened in surprise and she even felt herself blushing a little bit – though not nearly as bad as Arizona.

She resisted the urge to close her eyes, instead making herself watch as Callie's eyes scanned rapidly back and forth over the page, and, as Arizona knew her young self and the many, many sex dreams she'd had about Callie, she could only imagine what she was reading that was making her extremely un-prudish girlfriend blush.

Dark chocolate eyes finally got to the bottom of the page and paused there for a few seconds before flicking up to look at Arizona, "Huh. That was… you really had quite the imagination, didn't you?"

Crawling over to her, she used her finger to tip down the top of the diary, just skimming over a few sentences before she remembered that she had written in vivid detail her memories of the first dream she had in which she took Callie from behind… in their biology class. With a sigh and a slow smile sliding over her face, she sat back on her heels, "Yeah, well, I wasn't getting any in high school but I had to keep myself satisfied."

Now Callie did close the diary, then carefully placed it off to the side, "I take back what I said; Shakespeare would probably be blushing."

She shifted onto her hands and knees and as she stalked closer, Arizona felt like the heat notched up in the room tenfold, cerulean eyes locked on chocolate ones, both rapidly darkening as Callie spoke low in her ear, "How about… you show me whether or not you think you still have such an active imagination?"

Her eyes dipped, looking at the way Callie's tank top dipped, revealing cleavage that was free from being restricted from a bra. The fabric cut off just above where Arizona would be able to see her nipples, and she let out a small groan, turning her face so that her lips could first plant a kiss against that soft jaw, before opening to suck lightly at her skin.

But before she could, the Latina was up on her feet, calling out, "Come show me in the bedroom!"

Arizona was going to shout something back… and then words left her when that tank top was discarded and thrown at her, landing on top of her head. Tossing it to the ground, her hands were reaching for the bottom of her own shirt, eyes devouring the flesh that had just been revealed to her. Sometimes, it was hard for her even to believe that this was all real.

That her life had changed so much in just under five months.

May 1

"Oh god!" the words escaped Arizona in a squeak as the case of glasses in her hand slipped and fell to the floor, landing with a loud crash. Shards of glass burst from the top of the box that wasn't really closed in the first place – that was a really great job she did listening to the safety codes – and as she followed the box by dropping herself onto the ground, small bits of glass dug into her palms.

Slamming her eyes closed, she bit her bottom lip so that her exclamation of, "Fuck!" didn't get any louder than a whisper.

From next to her, Alex lightly kicked out his foot, nudging her in the side, "Dude, are you all right?"

Reaching out her fingertips, she pinched the bottom of his jeans, "Quick, get down! Before she sees you!" she gave a hard pull, forcing him to duck down behind the bar, wincing as the glass shifted in her skin.

As soon as he was crouching next to her, his boots making the glass smash even more into the wooden floor, he stared at her as though she'd grown three heads, "What the hell is going on?"

Bringing her finger up in front of her lips, she hissed back, "Whisper! Clearly, this is time for whispering." In a move that she hoped was inconspicuous, she lifted herself up – just enough for her eyes to see over the bar – and as soon as she confirmed what she had thought she'd seen in the first place, she quickly dropped back down, "You see her, right?"

Even though he was still looking at her like she was crazy, and maybe she was, he moved to peer over the bar but didn't stoop back next to her immediately, "That hot chick talking to Tim? She looks kinda familiar."

Arizona closed her eyes tightly, "She should look familiar, we went to high school with her." Without waiting for the question that she knew was coming, she turned to look at him, "That's Callie Torres."

He nodded slowly, continuing to stare, "Oh, right. She's the chick you were obsessed with who didn't know you were alive," he finally turned back to face her, only to smirk.

Using the back of her hand, she slapped him in the shoulder, "Screw you! I wasn't… she knew I was alive."

He rolled his eyes at her, snorting, "Yeah, and you two were so close and pers- she's coming over here."

Her eyes widened as she looked around at herself; bloody hands and ripped jeans was not the way she would want Callie Torres to see her after nearly seven years. Not that she ever expected to see Callie Torres ever again after high school graduation, maybe beyond a passing look in the street. What the hell was she doing here?

Quickly, she tapped her hand against Alex's arm, ordering, "Stand up. I'm not here."

And, as if it were possible, she tried to press herself completely against the bar as if she could disappear into it. Which was ridiculous, because Arizona Robbins did not feel like this. Maybe in high school she did, but not now. As much as her mind told her to stand up with Alex, the part of herself that had actual control over her movements kept her grounded.

The fact that her heart beat faster at the sound of that voice made her feel even more foolish – she wasn't sixteen anymore, damn it – as Callie asked, "I was told to come over here to speak to Arizona?"

What? Shit. Were her legs visible? Why was Callie freaking Torres asking to speak to her? When Alex didn't respond right away, she gave him an elbow to the shin, which seemed to get him going, "Oh, uh, right, well, Z's kind of busy. Getting…" he looked down at her, and she jerked her head to the box of broken wine glasses next to her, "Some more wine glasses. Something I can help you with?"

Arizona held her breath waiting for the answer as it took a few more seconds for Callie to say, "Well, I was just talking to Tim over by the door, and he said that I had to talk to Arizona about setting up something about getting some catering for the bar at a party? Are you sure you can't… find her… somewhere? Like, behind the bar?"

Heat rushed to her cheeks and she closed her eyes for just a second before slowly standing, "Wow, the trip from the basement to get those wine glasses gets shorter and shorter every time."

When she opened her eyes, she was met with an amused smile and quirk of an eyebrow. And her throat ran dry, because there was a reason she'd, as Alex would say, been obsessed with her throughout her teenage years.

This woman was a goddess. And she had only improved with time.

But those eyes were the same. Endlessly dark, and right now they were lit up in laughter, even as her eyebrow lifted in question and she stood up on her tiptoes, to look down at the dropped and broken wine glasses. Arizona followed her gaze, and she could just feel how red her cheeks were, "I… tripped."

Alex scoffed in laughter next to her, "Yeah, okay."

Narrowing her eyes, she reached for the rag he'd been using to wipe down the bar – grimacing as the movement made the glass shift in her palms – and tossed it farther down, "Go finish wiping down the bar."

He rolled his eyes then gave her a mock salute, "Yes, boss."

Turning her attention back to Callie, she cleared her throat, "You said you were interested in getting us to cater the bar for a party?"

But instead of answering, the taller woman was looking at her hands, "You're bleeding."

Her own eyes trailed down, and so she was. Really. Arizona, through the years – after she'd gotten rid of the thickly framed glasses she'd worn in high school and finally gotten those horrible braces off – had learned to use what she had to her advantage. What she had was the job of a bar owner near a marina in south Miami. She could rock being a hot bar owner. Most of the time.

But of course it was during the day – not even during business hours – that she was wearing an old Dolphins baseball cap with her hair in a messy ponytail with a faded t-shirt. And her hands were being held, palm up, over the counter between them, as blood started dripping down. Instinctively, she cupped one hand over the over and stepped back, "I'll, um, be right back."

"You're not just going to pick glass out of your own hands," Callie deadpanned, mirroring her movements.

She shook her head, "No, I'll get –" she turned her head, only to see that both her brother and Alex had disappeared outside the open door.

The brunette followed her gaze, "I can help. It's no problem."

Ah yes. Just what she wanted – her sexy teenage dream-only-sexier-now helping pull little bits and pieces of glass out of her palms. She hoped the blush on her face could be blamed on the muggy heat of the day outside, muttering, "Um, okay. Thanks. It's – we keep the first-aid kit in the employee's bathroom."

She gestured to the area of the bar that was flipped up and open for Callie to walk through… then as the Latina started to walk, she told herself not to stare. But quickly gave up on that, because she wasn't a nerdy sixteen-year-old who was in the closet and because seven years later had made those hips that plagued young dreams fuller and the butt that was underneath denim shorts was just screaming for blue eyes to watch.

And because she wasn't sixteen anymore, she knew exactly when to move her eyes back up that body so she was looking at Callie's face when she crossed over to the other side of the bar, the small smile still on her lips, "Employee's bathroom? I feel so special."

Leading them down a thin, cramped hallway, through to the end room, she leaned up on her tiptoes and turned on the hanging light, which illuminated the small, windowless back room in a lowly glowing fluorescent light, giving her a humorless smile in return, "You shouldn't feel that special."

Undoubtedly, Callie was used to lavish settings, and this bathroom – while they kept it clean – was still a little dusty, dank, and dark. Not an extremely special place, indeed. As she reached her hands up to flip open the small mirror then went to take the first-aid kit into her hands before a tan hand reached out, and gently brushed her hip, making her freeze for just a second, "Don't. You don't want to force the glass any deeper."

In this small room, they were so close that she could smell Callie. For about a second, she thought it was strange that she remembered what she smelled like in high school… then she thought about how she'd spent every day in biology class for almost two months trying to determine what exactly she smelled like; hell, she remembered everything about Callie – and even if she didn't, she was certain she had it written down in her old diaries somewhere. She crushed on her, hard, for five years.

It had taken her three of those years before she'd even had the courage to say hello.

And even though Alex had teased her mercilessly for that fact back in the day, it was just the way things were. She hadn't understood makeup and had no female figure in her life to help her figure it out; instead she had her dad, who owned a bar, and an older brother, who was obsessed with football, and as a product of her environment, had grown up a tomboy, whose wavy hair seemed only manageable when it was up in a ponytail. … those glasses and braces hadn't helped, either. Alex's own glasses and braces, plus outbreaks of acne, weren't pushing him to go talk to the privileged, pretty, popular girls, either.

She shook her head lightly to bring her back to the present, which was unnecessary as Callie's hand reached out and gently wrapped around her wrist, pulling one of her hands between them, after she'd already pulled out the tweezers from the kit. As the brunette pulled her hand up close to her face, Arizona watched her and wondered if Callie even remembered her at all.

Which was solved when she cleared her throat, "So, what have you been doing since high school?" she asked, and for some reason, the fact that she remembered her relieved her. Her crush might have been completely one-sided, but at least she didn't feel like a stalker. Completely.

A sardonic laugh fell from her lips at the question, her eyes wandering around the room, "You're looking at it." Not wanting to dwell on her shortcomings since high school, she changed the subject, "What about you?"

The question might have been pointless, because the private high school her dad had broken his back to send she and Tim to that Callie had also gone to wasn't very big, and back in the day, word had traveled quickly where members of their class were going after graduation. She knew that Callie had gone to Florida State. However, she wasn't about to reveal that information.

Those dark eyes were still focused on her hands as she moved her attention to the other palm, her voice was low in her concentration as she answered, "Well, I graduated from college a few years back, and I just got home from serving in the Peace Corps."

She could feel her own eyes widen, and involuntarily smiled; for the years of her youth, both Alex and Tim had mocked her crush on Callie, and despite the fact that she didn't really know the Latina – at least enough to be proclaiming anything more than puppy love – she'd always felt it necessary to defend her. It felt kind of… validating, even if it was a little late, "That's… awesome. Saving the world, huh?"

But Callie didn't smile back, instead, she quickly plucked the last piece of glass out – which was surprising to her, because she'd had her dad, Tim, and Alex all help her pull glass and splinters from her skin before and she had always been acutely aware of the way the metal had dug into her skin.

As she reached for the band-aids, Arizona looked at the slightly miserable look that had taken up residence on her face, and reality set in like a slap to the face about this extremely surreal chain of events. Callie Torres was not some old high school girlfriend or even friend who was here to catch up with her. She was a potential customer who had the possibility of bringing a different avenue of business – business that the bar could really use. And here she was playing nurse to Arizona. Very professional. If Arizona had been smart, she would have brushed off Callie's offer to help and gone to find either one of the guys, and offered her customer a drink while she waited.

Kicking the toe of her work boot into the ground, she placed her hand on the top of the first-aid kit before Callie could open it, "I can handle it from here. Thank you, though. I can meet you out there to talk about that party in a minute?"

It was as if her words served to draw Callie out of whatever she was thinking, as well, and she stood up straight, blinking a few times – as if realizing that she was in the back of a bar, using tweezers to pick glass out of an almost-stranger's hand. Pearly white teeth bit into her bottom lip before those dark eyes sought out hers, as she nodded, "Okay. Sounds good."

Arizona watched her walk back down the hallway before using her boot to shut the door and stare at herself in the mirror. After she washed her hands, she made quick work of packing up the first-aid kit and placing it behind the mirror again, then reached up and adjusted the bill of her hat.

It was kind of frightening how easily her memories of high school and Callie came back to easily, after she hadn't thought of her in years. But really, it didn't matter; this was nothing. Callie Torres would walk out of here soon without looking back, and Arizona would soon forget about her, again.

The hand she'd been reaching for the doorknob stilled for a moment, then she leaned back in to the mirror. Callie might be gone again in a few minutes, but for those few minutes, she could fix her hair a bit and go back out to the bar looking better – no.

Wrinkling her nose at herself in the mirror, she winked. She looked just fine now; Callie was the one who came into a bar that was on the poorer side of town than she lived on and this was the result.

Wiping her hands on her thighs, she made her way back out to the bar area, pausing to grab a pad of paper and a pen from next to the cash register before making her way to where Callie was sitting, flipping it open on the mahogany of the bar across from the brunette, "All right, so what do we have going on?"

She scribbled in the shorthand that only she, Alex, and Tim understood, listening to Callie describe exactly what she needed ordered in for whatever party the Torres family was throwing next week. The liquor order was definitely do-able… however, it was certainly for more expensive stuff than they usually ordered for their bar.

After reading the list back to Callie, she bit her lip, before moving her eyes from the paper to the other woman's face, "Not that I'm complaining or anything… but what brought you to Just Cause?"

Her features shifted into that grin as her eyes looked up at Arizona through thick eyelashes, "I've heard good things."

And the sultry tone of her voice made her heart jump and heat rise to her cheeks once more, because even if she wasn't the teenage fantasy girl Arizona had dreamt about, she was still the most stunning woman who she'd ever laid eyes on.

Rapping her knuckles on the bar, she cleared her throat, "Oh, the Forbes-Montgomery party, right?"

A few months ago – after she'd spent upwards of a year begging Tim to expand on being just an average bar – the Just Cause had finally started to branch out to bar catering services at other events. It was a win-win situation, as, even though most of their venues so far had been pretty small, it still brought in the extra cash that they needed.

And three weeks ago, Marion Forbes-Montgomery had called her in a tizzy because the high-end liquor caterer and bartender she'd hired canceled at the last minute, and she needed someone to do in a pinch. They might have been a last minute choice, but she, Tim, and Alex had gone in with their best.

Apparently, it paid off.

Callie thought about the way Addison's mother had rolled her eyes and mentioned "that little Just Cause bar" had done an "adequate" job of filling in for the business they usually used, a tight smile coming up onto her lips, "Yep, they had some really good things to say."

Arizona thought of the way the matriarch of one of the wealthiest families in the area had looked at her, disdain practically dripping from her features, and bit her lip, "I'm sure."

As she read over the order slip to make sure there was everything Callie had requested, she lifted her eyebrows, "The estimation for the alcohol alone is going to be almost three thousand… and you said this is a small party?"

Callie nodded, reaching for her purse, "Mhmm. Do I have to pay now or –"

She shook her head, clicking the pen and lying it on the order pad, "Nope. You pay us once you're satisfied with everything."

Those perfectly shaped eyebrows rose, "How do you know I'll be satisfied?"

"It's a guarantee," her response came out as natural as could possibly be, and she found herself winking before she internally slapped herself. Callie hadn't been flirting with you, idiot.

Flirting or not, a small smile that still made her stomach flutter a little bit, played on those full lips as she slid her purse over her shoulder, "Great. So, you have everything you need?"

Barely wanting to look away from her face, Arizona glanced down: alcohol specific order, name, number, date of party, address… "Yep, everything looks like it's in order."

Callie braced her hands on the bar and pushed herself up, "All right. It was, uh, nice seeing you, Arizona."

It was definitely in her imagination that the stunning Latina kept eye contact for longer than was socially normal, she was sure. Regardless, she felt a large smile tug at her lips, "You, too."

And just like that, as quickly as she'd walked into the bar, she was gone. She let her eyes linger on the doorway for just a moment before shaking her head with a laugh. Callie Torres. Huh. The laugh turned into a groan when she realized she still had the shattered glad on the floor, but before she could even take a step toward it, the door to the bar came crashing open, and for a second she thought for some reason Callie was coming back.

Then she heard her brother's voice, "Wow, Z, quick work with that one. She was in and out of here in less than a half hour."

Waving the order pad in the air, she glared at him, "Watch your sass, Tim."

Alex came barging in right behind him, his voice high-pitched in an imitation of hers, "Oh, Calliope, I love you. I've always loved you. Take me now!"

Now she just waved her middle finger in the air, "I'm in here, professionally conducting a business transaction and you guys up and disappear."

Tim held up both of his hands in the air, eyebrows shooting up on his forehead, "Woah, business transaction? I've always told you, never be desperate enough to sell your body."

Before she could throw the cloth that had been cleaning the bar before the guys had gone outside at him, Alex scoffed, "Professional? You fell to the ground and tried to hide from her!"

She flexed her hands, still feeling stinging in the areas the glass had dug into, "It was my first instinct. Couldn't help it." Biting her lip, she shook her head, looking around at the bar, "Now, come on; we're officially a half hour behind schedule."

They were supposed to open their doors in less than an hour and they still had to bring in their last shipment from outback, take down all the stools flipped up on tables, and do the final sweep and wipe-down. And there was that whole matter of the shattered glasses…

Before she could take a step back, both of the guys had jumped up, leaning onto the counter and each locking an arm around hers, double teaming her in a way that didn't allow her to move and that they knew she hated. Both Tim and Alex were inches away from her face; the bill of Tim's hat knocking into the one she was wearing as her brother somehow managed to elbow her in the side, though for the life of her, she would never know how, "Come on! You wanted this girl – who is now a totally hot woman – for like ten years –"

She rolled her eyes at him, "Five."

And his mirroring blue eyes rolled back at her, "And now that you're not all weird and geeky –"

"She's still weird and geeky," Alex threw in, making both Robbins look at him as if to say, and you aren't. He shrugged.

Tim tipped his head back and let out a deep, exasperated breath, "My freaking god, I'm just trying to say that you should go for it. How often do you get the chance to show the person of your high school fantasy all of the things you wish you could've shown them back in your awkward years? Barely ever. And then she specifically seeks out our bar in our area of town and asks to talk to you… come on."

He nudged his elbow into her again, and they both loosened their grip enough to let her slide her arms out of their hold, though they remained both leaning on an elbow over the bar, staring at her. It really took as little as Tim's words to start this little image in her head of she and Callie… nope.

She shook her head, "Not even going to go there. She's already gone, which is good for three little reasons: first of all, you know, she's straight –"

Both of the men just stared at her, before speaking at the same time.

"But is she really?"

"In the last six years, when has that stopped you?"

But Callie Torres wasn't just some other girl that she could approach. They had a history… even if it was primarily a one-sided history. To her young self, Callie was a big part of her life. And she could still remember her major boyfriend's names to this day – and even back in high school there were several. And no girlfriends.

Ignoring both statements, she lifted a second finger, then brought both of them down to tap on the order pad she'd put down, "And she's a customer."

The guys looked at each other, their eyebrows drawn down incredulously, before they looked back at her, this time speaking in unison, "You sleep with customers all of the time!"

Her mouth fell open, "Not all of the time!" In fact, she hadn't had sex in… god, almost two months. Damn. She was appalled at herself; she hadn't gone that long since she had lost her virginity at nineteen. How did that much time pass by without her even noticing? And now that she was thinking about it, and she kind of felt like she could still feel Callie's hands on her still, soft and gentle, her voice low as they'd talked – letting out a quiet groan, she ignored the slight protest her skin gave as she balled both of her hands and hit both her brother and best friend in the shoulder, "Besides, they're normal customers; not someone who's giving us a huge business opportunity – and no matter what, we're forgetting the biggest reason here: she is Callie Torres."

Things might have changed since high school, thank god. But one thing that had not changed that was clear from their brief interaction this afternoon – Callie was still pretty, popular, and privileged. Even more so – even better – now. She'd graduated college and had been in the Peace Corps, and was now apparently planning a "small" extravagant party for her peers. As her life and experiences had grown, she'd gotten even better looking than Arizona could have even imagined.

She might not have been the same girl with glasses and braces, but she was still the co-owner and bartender of a small business; they were very much still playing in two completely different leagues.

Please let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is absolutely welcome. This is just going to be a short story, about 5 chapters, that I'm pumping out just to break through the writer's block that's plaguing me.